


Grieving Process

by Littlecupofmocha



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV), tua
Genre: Angst, Drug Use, Grief, Grieving, Homophobia, Klave, M/M, Mild Gore, Period-Typical Homophobia, Slurs, Umbrella Academy - Freeform, Vietnam, Vietnam War, dave katz - Freeform, just descriptions though, there is...no comfort in this, tua - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-06
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2020-01-05 14:39:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18368081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Littlecupofmocha/pseuds/Littlecupofmocha
Summary: The image wouldn’t leave, like it had been burned into the backs of his eyelids forever. He needed to get high. Or drunk. Maybe both at once, honestly. Anything to stop seeing him.OrThe events that happen between Dave getting shot and Klaus ending up back home





	Grieving Process

Klaus sunk down into the curve of the porcelain tub, fully aware that he was getting blood everywhere but too tired to care. It had been almost an hour since he’d gotten back, and he felt a little out of place, having lived in the 1960s for the past ten months, 10 hours, whatever, despite this being his actual life.

 

Klaus slowly scrubbed at his body, watching blood– _his_ blood–slide off of him and mix with the dirt and grime that was already in the water. Klaus still didn’t know how to process what he had witnessed. His heart was beating painfully fast and his chest and throat were tight, and any time he closed his eyes he saw Dave lying there on the ground, blood gushing out of his chest and spilling from his mouth, eyes frantic and terrified.

 

Klaus shook his head vigorously and pressed the palms of his hands against his eyes. The image wouldn’t leave, like it had been burned into the backs of his eyelids forever. He needed to get high. Or drunk. Maybe both at once, honestly. Anything to stop seeing _him_.

 

After shampooing his greasy hair he just sat huddled in the warm water, trying to calm down and failing miserably. All he could think about were the small events that led up to that fatal moment. What if Klaus had positioned himself where Dave had been? What if he had let Dave choose where to lie this time instead of himself? Could he have shut up for once and paid attention to what was happening beside him? How long had Dave been bleeding out before he’d finally noticed?

 

By the time the medic had gotten to them, even Klaus knew it was too late. Dave’s eyes had stopped fluttering and he had ceased coughing, but his blood was still spilling, soaking through his shirt and getting under Klaus’s nails.

 

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

_“Hargreeves! He’s gone. You gotta let us get him out of here.”_

 

_The medic was shaking Klaus, trying to get him to let go of Dave, whom he was still cradling._

 

_A hand came to clasp his shoulder, and a voice from behind was calling out his name. Probably Stephen or Jim, maybe Patrick. Klaus couldn’t remember who he had been next to._

 

_“Klaus, you gotta let him go.”_

_Two more sets of hands were suddenly on him, pulling back on his shoulders and seizing his arms. Klaus immediately began to resist, flailing in a panic._

 

_“No! No! Stop it!”_

 

_Another medic came from somewhere and picked up Dave’s feet. The man Klaus had called over took Dave’s arms, and the two stood up slowly, bent at the waist, and hurriedly rushed off to the jeeps some distance away._

 

_Klaus was hysterical and lashed at the men holding him back, not even able to make out who they were because of the darkness and the tears clouding his vision._

 

_Suddenly he was forced to the ground and slapped hard across the cheek. The force of it took him by surprise, some part of him knew to immediately go silent, and he stopped thrashing._

 

_His lieutenant loomed over him, nose inches apart from his own._

 

_“Hargreeves! If you can’t handle something as inevitable as this, you shouldn’t call yourself a man! Sober up and get back in there. You’ll see worse than this, yet.”_

 

_A rifle was shoved into his arms as the commander stalked away, yelling at some other men off to the side. The soldiers who had held Klaus down returned to their positions, acting like nothing had happened._

 

_Klaus had no intention of staying any longer. He wanted nothing more to do with this country; the life he had built for himself here wasn’t worth it, and he couldn’t conjure up any reason to continue slogging through the war._

 

_With a sense of defiance, Klaus tossed the gun onto the ground in front of him and ran from his position towards the medical site. He could hear the lieutenant shouting after him and cursing, and a few men were glancing back as Klaus ran past them._

 

_Dave was on the ground, and he would have looked like a drunkard given the way his limbs were strewn around him if not for his blood-soaked chest. Quickly, Klaus took his own dog tags off and switched them for Dave’s. He pressed a delicate kiss to his lips and shakily stood, ready to run for it._

 

_When he turned, the lieutenant was there._

 

_“You’re disgusting, you know that? A coward and a queer.”_

 

_Klaus only fumed in silence._

 

_“You can run from this, but you’ll die out here alone if you’re not shot first.”_

 

_The lieutenant picked up a strewn rifle off the ground and cocked it._

 

_“You get ninety seconds, faggot.”_

 

 

_Klaus had somehow made it to his pup tent without any bullets in his back, and he immediately dove for his briefcase, fearing his bastard of a lieutenant would show up any minute to fire an entire round into him._

 

_With trembling hands Klaus unlatched the case’s locks and was about to open it when Dave’s jacket caught his eye. He had lent it to Klaus the night before to use as a blanket, even though he couldn’t understand how Klaus could shiver in the middle of a damn jungle._

 

_With all the death around, there were so many ghosts, all screaming and lamenting in English, French, Chinese, and Vietnamese. Despite it all, Dave had been a comfort, regardless of the fact that Klaus couldn’t tell him about his abilities._

 

_The sound of more bullets and approaching footsteps yanked Klaus out of his momentary stupor, and he ripped the patch off Dave’s jacket with ease. He could see boots from behind the flap of his tent, and before his lieutenant could pull it back, Klaus opened the case._

 

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

The bathwater was cold. Klaus had no idea how long he’d been sitting there, and he found himself shivering, the skin on his fingertips shriveled. He slowly got out of the tub and snugly wrapped a towel around himself before tip-toeing to his room down the hall.

 

He shuffled around his drawers for a minute trying to find something to put on. He hadn’t really taken much with him when he moved out, nor did he really have anything to bring back with him from rehab, so his only option was to find the blue pajamas he had worn as a teenager.

 

He’d grown taller since he’d last worn them, so the pants were a bit short, but it didn’t matter. Klaus changed, tossed his towel on the floor, and immediately flopped into bed. Though he was warmer now, he was still shaking, and though he desperately wanted to fall asleep he couldn’t stop replaying the past few hours over and over again in his head.

 

The heaviness of Dave’s limp form. His lieutenant’s harsh voice. The briefcase exploding. All the blood, everywhere.

 

He’d see Dave again, he was certain of that. But only as a ghost. Part of him was excited at the prospect and wanted to remain sober enough to be able to conjure him, but another part of him was not ready at all.

 

Not ready to see Dave with that deep, leaking hole in his chest. Not ready to look him in the eye all the while knowing the situation could have turned out so much differently, that they could have survived together, built a life together, and that both of them finally could have had some peace in their lives.

 

With tears welling in his eyes and a sickening feeling in his stomach, Klaus reached into his bedside drawer and found another stash of pills. He popped two, tossed the bag away, and stared at his fairy lights, waiting for the familiar and comforting fog to seep in and cloud his mind. 

**Author's Note:**

> Since we don't yet know how Klaus managed to get back to the present, this is just my interpretation of what I believe was a likely scenario (and yes, I changed up the Bathtub Scene a bit as well). Also, at the time of the Vietnam War, deserters did run the risk of being killed in the act, and tolerance of LGBT peoples was not common at this time. Given this, I don't doubt a commanding officer could have acted in a similar manner as Klaus's lieutenant.
> 
> Thank you for reading! Comments are appreciated. Feel free to sob about Klaus with me.


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